BOOK 2 of the Running With Devils Series
It's been three weeks since Coralynn Bennet was dragged down to Hell and it was nothing like how she imagined it. It was a kingdom of skyscrapers but no sky. Demons ran amok, but limited their bloodthirsty te...
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The Shadow
The sound of the fighting pit reverberated through the muggy dark locker room I currently sat in. I imagined it was the physical representation of my current mental state.
Putrid and vile.
It was everything that was opposite of where I intended to be at this moment. I should be on top right now. Not slumming it in the Chain District like a rat in the sewers.
Still. This was far better than the alternative. My dealings with infernal politics had me in knots and this was the only place I knew that could untangle them.
It grounded me— reminded me where I started.
So I'd take the moldy locker room and be grateful for it. I was grateful for it. There were no expectations here. Only bloodshed and victory.
I kept my head down as more obnoxiously loud competitors entered the small echo chamber. Their voices bounced through the tight space and into my ears, only aggravating the pounding headache in my skull.
"Got any offers," one of them asked the small group of returning victors. The ones who didn't win, got axed. Literally.
"A few. One is pretty good looking. It's for a midtown gig. Solid pay and great perks," a large burly one said with a deviant glint in his eye as he made a vulgar gesture immulating a good fuck.
Lovely. I was cohorting with Neanderthals.
"Fuck yea," the other said as if congratulating the victor. "I've got myself a huge gig coming up. Great pay, sweet benefits. And if it goes well, a title."
Keep talking asshole. Let's hear all about that gig you're so keen on.
"What's the job," the other asked curiously.
"That's the thing," the demon said, lowering his voice. "I don't know. They haven't given me the details, but I heard it's big."
Ugh. Useless. Utterly fucking useless.
I stood up, peeling the chopped up wife-beater I'd made for myself from one of my bloodied undershirts.
"What about you," he asked in my direction. "You seem to win a lot. You got anything good yet?"
I ignored him, throwing my shirt into my locker and sealing it. I gave him one cold glance, sizing him up like he was an insect I could squash at any moment.
"Why would I tell you and risk you stealing it," I asked blandly.
"So you do have an offer then," he smirked.
"Sure," I snorted, eyes rolling. "I got a gig. It's a simple one. Beat the shit out of whoever's locked in that cage with me." I stopped at the doorway turning around to look at the two of them, but focusing on the one with that job offer that was too good to be true. "I wouldn't trust a deal that good looking. It's bound to land you in hot water."
